Still Grieving After All These Years…

Still Grieving After All These Years, OR, When Your Emotional Drain is Clogged still grievingI imagine your first thought, as a reader, is: “Wow Caitlin, that is a pretty terrible title. I thought you were supposed to be good at this writing thing?”

Well, a) thank you for checking in… and b) I have selective writer’s block. For the past month or so, I have been writing, and not finishing a bunch of potential AfterTalk pieces, with no luck. I can’t get my thoughts straight. I have simultaneously too much, and not enough to say. All I know is that I am hurting right now.

No sensitive anniversaries are approaching in the near future, yet I’ve been wearing my father’s watch to sleep as if it were part of my pajama set. I don’t know what I am upset about, but I’ve been listening to all of the albums he used to play in the car. I haven’t been able to effectively communicate that I am still grieving to my friends, but sometimes I get sick when I’m out on the town, and I blubber about being a disappointment to my family.

My mother suspects that it’s related to my graduation from college, looming ahead in May. Obviously, my dad can’t attend. Yet, it may not even be so simple. Some days, I feel down because he won’t be able to make it to my wedding – a sentiment both so obvious, and so far off that it’s amusing. Who knows? I wish I did, actually, so that I could fix it.

I have always been prone to seek concrete solutions to my suffering. This can be helpful, but it can also still grieving me feel useless when a path of action towards emotional healing doesn’t immediately present itself. Lately, the closest I can come to “letting it out” is sitting in my dimly lit room, and listening to Anne Heaton. Close to catatonic, I try to blur the lines between nearly six years ago and today, in order to feel closer to my late father.

Maybe I am nervous? It’s been so long, and I am still grieving. Although I am thankful that pain tends to dull with time, sometimes, it feels like it gets worse as the years go on. How can I ever hope to have a normal life? Will I be able to have a functional job after graduation? More importantly, who could love me with all of this baggage?

I tried to write this post for a humble question: How do I be okay with not being okay? I feel empty, with all of the flashy revelations of daddy issues in the past. Now, I just feel lousy, and I can’t talk to my friends about it, and sometimes I cry, but the teardrops fall with less vigor than they used to. I think that is the hardest part about moving forward – I must accept that this is my life for the foreseeable future. I stare at old pictures of my complete family, feeling like an emotionally clogged drain.

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